Passing Seasons
by Shamelessly Radiant
Summary: DMHG, ONE-SHOT: Kicking out her shoes, she decides that she hates high heels. And rain. And Mondays. And incapable ministry fools. And mushrooms. Yes, she hates mushrooms. She will never like those damn things. "I knew you would go insane someday" a familiar voice drawls from the doorway. She almost throws her empty coffee cup at him. It's empty. Why is it empty? (Dramione)


_**A/N:**_

This is one of those old, _old _stories that had been on my pc forever.. I'm clearing them up and posting them because even though I think it can be way, way better there were a few people who liked it and I would not want them to feel what I felt when I discovered two of my favourite stories ever had disappeared forever- _my heart broke.. _I need chocolate!

I want to specially thank autumns midnight for helping me out with this one. You're the best!

.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," a voice drawls.

"Go away, Malfoy," she mutters, turning around.

Malfoy?

Wait a minute...

"What are you doing - ah!" She shoots upright so quickly that she bumps her head against the wall.

And no one is there.

"Oh, damn," she mutters. "Oh, damn it! Now I'm even dreaming about you! Leave me alone!"

Groaning, she turns towards the alarm clock. Four in the morning! She hits her head with her pillow, muffling a curse.

There's no way she'll be able to sleep now.

And there's no way he will leave her alone with the way her hair is going to look later.

Sigh.

XXX

"Well, hello, Granger. Looking good today, I must say. "

She looks at the clock, which reads ten in the morning. Hmm. So he left her alone for some time, at least.

"Go away, Malfoy," she mutters, without sparing him even a single look.

She knows what she's going to see: him leaning against her mahogany door frame, his feet crossed, his elbow propping him up, his hair perfectly modelled, that handsome smirk on his face.

As is their tradition, he ignores her statement and heads up to the comfy brown leather sofa in her office and plops down on it, with his feet dangling off the end.

She sighs and and continues working while he lays on the sofa.

Don't look, Hermione. Don't look, don't look.

She looks.

"I knew you couldn't resist temptation," he teases, with that smile on his face again.

She rolls her eyes at him.

He keeps smiling at her.

"What?" she snaps eventually, annoyed.

"Remember the coffee lady? What was her name again, something like Melissa -"

"Marissa. What about her?"

"Well," he sighs dramatically, staring at the white ceiling with his arms propped up under his head. "Her successor, Amy, is a really nice girl."

"Malfoy..."

"She's quite good at making coffee and...other...stuff," he says suggestively.

"Malfoy, what did you do?" she asks, shocked, though she already knows the answer.

"Oh, nothing. Let's just say I invited her on a date, and she said yes, and well...the usual."

Her heart stops beating, but just for a second. It's already used to this routine.

"Oh, well, I'm happy for you," she mumbles, looking down at her paperwork again.

"Come on!" he exclaims. "Could that be said with any more enthusiasm?"

"Let's see how long it lasts, shall we? And then I'll be enthusiastic. I have work to do, so if you'll excuse me?" She does not look up again and so she misses the small frown on his face as he leaves.

She also does not notice the door closing a little louder than necessary.

XXX

The sound of the Floo interrupts her. Looking at the clock, she yawns. Only eleven in the morning, and still it feels as she has been working on this case forever, with no progress at all.

"Hermione." The red torment that enters her house tuts. "Do not tell me you forgot what today's date is."

"Er..." Hermione sneaks a quick glance at the cute wooden flower calendar she has on her desk. "The eleventh of August?"

"Yes" Ginny says slowly, deliberately, as if waiting for her to catch on. "Which is?"

"Which is..." Come on Hermione, think, 11 August, Ginny, today is... "Oh God, Ginny, I am so sorry!" She springs from her seat and goes to embrace the redhead. "I totally forgot! Happy birthday! I got you a present, I swear. It's just here somewhere.."

She lets Ginny go and runs out of her home office to her bedroom next to it. There she dives into her wardrobe and starts opening the drawers madly, chucking out her shoes.

Ugly, never liked it anyway, ew, too high, can't walk on that, aha! There it is!

"Here it is!" She emerges triumphantly, moving it behind her back when Ginny, who is now leaning against the bedroom wall, catches a glimpse.

"Er, I haven't packed it yet," she says lamely.

Ginny laughs. "No worries, Hermione. You can give it to me this evening."

"This evening?"

Ginny gives Hermione a look. "Yes," she says slowly, "You know, at my birthday party at the Burrow?"

"Oh, Merlin, I - yes of course, I'm sorry, it's just - I've been so busy lately with, you know...everything." Hermione makes a vague hand gesture in the direction of her office.

"Oh, Hermione, please tell me you are over him."

"Over..." It takes her a second, and when it hits her, she starts laughing. She puts away the present before plopping down on the bed. "Oh, of course! That was ages ago! Yes, I'm over Ron. He's happy, I am happy, everyone is happy. No, it's just this case I've been working on."

"What case?" Ginny asks interestedly, sitting down on the chair next to the window that faces Hermione's bed.

Hermione hesitates before deciding it really doesn't matter if people know.

"Remember Stan Shunpike? Well apparently some people at the Ministry of Idiots, er, I mean, Ministry of Magic, still believe in all that crap about him being a Death Eater."

"Bloody idiots," Ginny mumbles. "Are they still going on about that? That was like seven years ago!"

"I know," Hermione sighs. She then fixes Ginny with a steady stare. "Wait, how old are you again? Thirty?"

"Ha-ha." Ginny rolls her eyes. "Twenty-four as of today, and aren't you way older than me?"

Hermione looks away consciously.

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Ginny laughs. "Twenty-five is really not that old."

"No, I guess not."

Ginny chuckles again and stands up from the chair. "Come on, let's go!" she says excitedly.

"Let's go? Where to?"

"It's my birthday! Anywhere I want to go." She comes round to the bed and starts pulling Hermione off it.

"Ginny..." Hermione says hesitantly.

"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny whines. "One day off not working isn't going to kill you. It's Saturday, for Merlin's sake."

Hermione looks at Ginny's pleading expression and smiles indulgently. "Fine. Let's go."

"Yay!" Ginny squeals, jumping up and down. Hermione cocks her head at Ginny, and Ginny grins. "I have one more year before I have to turn twenty-five and become serious, start working, become dull, forget my best friends' birthdays..."

"Hey! I already agreed I'd go with you."

"Okay, come on! We're going to be late."

"Late for what?" Hermione asks. Ginny's excitement is beginning to rub off on her.

"We're going to meet Luna for a shopping day." Ginny rushes out of the bedroom, her heels clicking all the way to the sitting room and the chimney.

Hermione smiles and follows quickly.

XXX

"Finally. It's too hot for shopping." Ginny pants as she sets down her dozens of shopping bags and sits down at a table at Florean's, wiping her forehead.

Hermione follows quickly but Luna looks hesitant.

"Sit down, Luna. Trust me, the Nargles are not going to bother you," Hermione says seriously, which earns her a swift kick from Ginny.

"Ow," she mouths at the redhead.

"Don't be silly, Hermione. Nargles don't exist," Luna says serenely before sitting down, her eyes still lost in space.

Hermione's eyebrows rise comically as she stares at Luna and then turns her questioning gaze to Ginny. Ginny shrugs and signals the waiter, a young man who took over the business after the war. He hadn't changed the name of the business out of respect and remembrance for Florean, the former owner, who had been killed by Death Eaters.

"Here's the menu. Let me know when you find anything." The waiter winks at them, hands them the menu, and leaves quickly to usher a couple in.

"However, floppie-fappies do exist, and I'm worried they'll infiltrate your head before I can tell you my news," Luna says.

"What do they do?" Ginny asks while Hermione hides behind her menu.

She likes Luna. She really does, but they still tend to disagree on the existence of some creatures from time to time. Hermione has learned to not say anything about it - okay, that's a lie. She tries very hard not to say anything about it, but sometimes it still slips out.

She tries to zone out, but Luna's voice is impossible to ignore.

"Oh, they flutter around in your head when people are going to tell something important, and they make you forget what they said, and-"

Ginny has obviously picked up something Hermione hasn't because she narrows her eyes at Luna. "Luna, what are you not telling us?"

Luna looks around awkwardly and suddenly exclaims, "Look! Nargles!"

"Nargles only hide in mistletoe," Hermione supplies, remembering that fact from one of the few occasions she paid attention to the blonde. Luna shoots her a glare.

"Luna..." When Ginny wants to know something, she's like a piranha who does not let go, and this is no exception. Luna mumbles something unintelligible in response, and Ginny frowns, confused. "Er..."

"I've got a boyfriend -" Luna says, but before she can say more Ginny interrupts.

"Ooh! Who is it?"

"You don't know him," Luna says.

"Luna, I know everyone! Tell me."

"Rolf Scamander," Luna mumbles.

"Who?" Hermione asks, but Ginny cuts her off.

"Oh, the grandson of Newt Scamander, no? He works in Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology somewhere in South America."

She then gives them a look as if to say, "See, I do know everyone." At that moment, the waiter come back and they place their orders, but as soon as he's gone, Ginny resumes interrogating Luna.

"So, how did you meet? Where did you meet? When? What was your first date - ooh, when did he kiss you?"

Luna doesn't have a chance to answer all those questions before they are brought their ice cream. Hermione digs into her cherry sorbet, Ginny turns to Luna with a wicked gleam in her eyes and some ice-cream topping on her nose.

"Tell me everything," she demands. Luna almost chokes on her orange-strawberry-raspberry-mango-lime ice, topped with coffee cream, chocolate, and peanuts, with little butter blocks and apple on the sides. Hermione notes amusedly that they forgot the lemon drops Luna asked for. The waiter seemed very frazzled when he had to write all that down.

Luna looks helplessly at Hermione, who shakes her head almost unnoticeably, signalling the blonde that there is nothing to do but bear it.

Ginny begins her inquisition, and Luna answers patiently, while her ice cream melts under the basking sun and she has no time to eat it because Ginny doesn't give her one break.

Hermione savours her ice cream, shaking her head amusedly at the sight before her.

Poor Luna.

XXX

The Burrow is the usual busy place, even more so now, with the many additions to the family. A distressed Molly tries to get everyone to settle down, while boiling potatoes, cutting tomatoes, and supervising the sizzling beef all at once.

Needless to say, Arthur is nowhere in sight.

Hermione enters with a smile on her face and a neatly-packed gift under her arm. That neatly-packed gift, however, does not stays neatly packed, as a stray knife skims it in its flight from the kitchen and the tomatoes waiting to be cut for the salad.

Bill and Charlie pursue the knife, throwing hexes at it - hexes that for some very bizarre coincidence, end up hitting each other instead, making Charlie grow dragon horns, and Bill claws and hairs on each hand.

Yes, very handy spells to catch a knife.

"Hermione, dear, welcome - oh, I'm so sorry!" Mrs Weasley points her wand at the gift, and restores the beautiful white scarf inside. Sadly, the damage to the package can't be fixed before Ginny comes in, beaming happily.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ginny says, giving Hermione an air kiss before taking the gift from her. "I already know what's inside it."

Hermione winks at her.

Everything seems to be happening at once: Bill and Charlie, both looking hairy and green, return proudly with a tortured piece of metal that used to be a knife and is still trying weakly to fly away, Ron Apparates with his new conquest Lauren right in the middle of the kitchen, and Percy enters with his very, very pregnant wife Audrey, little Molly in his arms.

Arthur, looking like something exploded in his face - probably the toaster he has been secretly working on repairing - enters the kitchen hastily, trips over a bottle, and starts falling.

Bill and Charlie rush to catch him, letting go of the knife, which decides its freedom has to be taken before it's tortured more. It flies out the door, missing Audrey's face by a millimetre, making her shriek and faint. Percy catches her but has to let go of his daughter, who then starts crying.

Hermione rushes to her when -

"EVERYBODY SETTLE DOWN AT ONCE. NOW!"

Molly, with flour in her hair, tomatoes on her skirt and a very red face, has finally lost it.

The Weasley clan is silent. Needless to say, the silence only lasts a second or two, because someone starts laughing madly in the doorway.

"George!" Harry - who came in right when the commotion started - exclaims.

George throws a very Weasley-twin-like smirk over his shoulder. Even though it's a little bleak, Hermione smiles, because not so long ago he wasn't smiling at all.

"Angelina, darling," George says to Angelina, "Meet my crazy family, most of whom you know. And then there's Harry and Hermione - you remember them from Hogwarts, right? - and Ron's latest conquest, who will be gone by next week, so I won't bother learning her name." Angelina smacks George on the head but laughs with everyone else except for Ron and Lauren. "And the cat." He frowns. "Since when do we have a cat?"

The grey cat, suddenly sitting on the window sill, looks indignantly at George before licking her paw and rubbing it along her delicate face. Little Molly looks entranced.

"Anyways. Crazy family, and Harry, and Hermione, and Ron's conquest...and cat, meet my lovely girlfriend, Angelina. Some of you already know her from Hogwarts, but consider this the official introduction."

The cat gives her a glance and continues with what she's doing, deeming Angelina not important enough for attention.

"So that's why you've been acting so secretive lately!" Ginny exclaims.

"Congratulations, Fred darling," Molly says distractedly, trying to salvage the potatoes, which have been boiling for quite a long time.

George's face contorts, and Molly brings her hands to her own face. "Oh, Georgie, I am so sorry-"

But George manages to give her a grin, replying with: "Honestly, woman, and you call yourself our mother?"

Everybody laughs, aside from Lauren and little Molly, who is now stroking the cat. The cat is purring happily.

Angelina takes George's hand and smiles reassuringly at him. He smiles back, but still has hurt in his eyes.

Hermione and Harry look at each other and take pity on Mrs. Weasley. Harry ushers everyone outside and Hermione offers her help, which is gladly accepted.

After dinner is ready and Audrey has finally come to, the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Lauren, and the cat enjoy a good dinner on the lovely summer evening.

Just before midnight, Harry picks Ginny up and wishes her a happy birthday before carrying her inside and to the Floo for her 'present'. While everyone laughs, Hermione sips her wine and strokes the cat on her lap, staring wistfully at them. She can't help but picture herself with a certain blond who was currently enjoying the summer evening with someone else.

She sighs and then smiles.

XXX

"Mary, hand me that file, please."

The girl quickly does as asked. She also knows immediately which file it is that Hermione wants, an impressive task seeing as the table is so filled with files and papers that not even one square centimetre of surface can be seen.

Hermione shoots her a grateful smile. She has no idea what she would do without her secretary.

"Okay, okay," she quickly mutters to herself. "Yes, we already knew that. Covered and...wait a minute-"

Mary is at her side immediately. Bless her.

"Oh, yes, Miss Granger. They keep adding more specifics to it. Every time we've covered something, a new thing comes up."

Hermione turns to her and says quietly, "Ask for the files of every one of the new victims, Mary. And please don't tell anyone about them."

"Not even Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger?"

She hesitates but finally decides. "No. And how many times have I told you to call me Hermione?"

"All right, Miss -" Hermione gives her a look, and she rectifies quickly. "Hermione."

"Okay, everyone, listen up," Hermione says, and they all are quiet immediately. She smiles. This has been her team since she first started working, and even though one of them could be sabotaging them, as long as she's not sure who it is she'll give them all the respect she thinks they deserve.

She looks at all the faces: Mary, Claire, Fingan, and Draco. He smirks at her when she finally looks at him, sarcastically gesturing for her to continue. She starts explaining the new case, and when she finishes she looks at them seriously. "So we need the usual: witnesses, arrangements with the suspect, files of the opposition lawyers...I also would like an expert on the Imperius Curse, and Mr. Malfoy will be working with us again for a while since he has Auror experience. Stan Shunpike is an innocent man and deserves to be free. Let's make it happen!"

They start packing up and Hermione smiles again at her team, then she looks at her watch.

"If you'll excuse me now, I haven't had my coffee yet. It has been three hours since this morning," she adds dramatically.

They all laugh as she leaves.

XXX

"Miss Granger?"

"Hermione," Hermione replies without looking up.

"Er, yes. I did what you asked."

"And what did you find?" Hermione smiles at Mary.

"Well, Miss Granger, it's all really strange. I checked all the cases, and they've all disappeared. Sometimes a file is missing because the Ministry is organising or checking something, but for them to have all gone missing? That's not normal at all. And I checked with others, and it's only our files - well, your files - that are conveniently missing."

"And who can access these files?" she asks Mary, raising her eyebrows.

"Everyone from our department, family members, and others, though they have to ask permission and sign their names. Oh - Unspeakables can too, but only if it has to do with something from their department, and they have to sign too, even if they're not required to give the reason. And the Minister of Magic himself, of course."

"So the people who can take them without signing are the Aurors, the Wizengamot, everyone from law enforcement, and the Minister."

"Well, yes. And secretaries of the Minister, too."

"And former secretaries?"

"I think so, Miss Granger."

"Excellent work, Mary," Hermione says, standing up.

"Wait, there's more!" Mary calls when Hermione is already halfway out of her office. "I took the liberty of checking out Death Eater files too, to match our files, and I discovered something strange. We know for sure that Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but Diana Abbott was definitely killed by Antonin Dolohov, and we are pretty sure that Bellatrix Lestrange had something to do with Emmeline Vance's death and, well, those two files are missing too."

"You mean Bellatrix's and Dolohov's?"

"Yes."

Hermione nods. "I think we may need to do something else. Thank you, Mary, you really helped me a lot on this."

"Really?" She beams.

"Absolutely," Hermione confirms. "Now I need to speak with some people, if you'll excuse me."

"Oh, sure. What should I do in the meantime?"

"What we discussed, Mary. And start with Fingan and Draco. I'll handle -"

"Claire and me?"

"Not you, Mary." Hermione smiles. "But I'm afraid I have to do Claire."

"Of course, Miss Granger." Mary nods. "Shall I contact the Minister for you?"

"You read my mind, Mary."

Mary smiles as Hermione leaves.

XXX

"Come on in! Come on in!" Ginny calls, but when Hermione pushes against the door it doesn't budge an inch. "Oh, take the backdoor!"Ginny explains, and Hermione hears Harry laughing madly inside.

When she finally enters, she sees why she couldn't open the front door: it's nearly impossible to see, as it's hidden behind chairs, tables, clothes, wardrobes and...well, everything that should be inside a house. And indeed, the rest of the house is looking decidedly empty.

"Gin?" Hermione asks. "What happened to...er..." She gestures helplessly to the stack of furniture. Harry starts laughing again.

"It's a disaster!" Ginny cries. "Today was meant to be my housewarming party, but the furniture only arrived two hours ago, and the men won't come back till next week to install everything."

"And of course there was no chance of canceling dinner," Harry says, with such a serious face Hermione is jealous of him for pulling it off.

"So, who is coming?" Hermione asks.

"Everyone!" Ginny says, gesturing madly. "Neville, Luna and her boyfriend, Ron and what's-her-name, George and Angelina, Hannah..."

Harry is no longer able to look serious and solemn, and he bursts into laughter again. After Ginny gives him a thorough head-whacking, he and Hermione help Ginny put everything in place.

It's an eventful night, to put it madly. Luna insists on scaring every floppie-fappie away before introducing her boyfriend, George pisses Lauren off by asking, "Who the hell is Lauren?" the three times Ron mentions her, the soup overcooks, and the pork chops are a disaster. The awful food results in Harry proclaiming that it is his duty to move in with Ginny to protect her from herself and her horrendous cooking skills, and Ginny reminds him of that one time with melted chocolate and how he didn't complain about her skills then, which makes George and Ron gag and yell, "Too many details." Over dessert, Hannah tells everyone she is working for Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks now, and Neville stands up, goes over to her and kisses her fully on the mouth, something to which she responds enthusiastically.

After that, everyone fixes their eye on Hermione as the only one who has no partner, and Hermione becomes suddenly very interested in her apple pie.

Above all, it is a wonderful night.

XXX

After that, time flies by. Hermione slowly starts making progress on her case, and before she knows it, two months have passed by and it is the dreaded day.

She is twenty-six now.

It is not really old, she knows that, but the thing is, she pictured herself with a boyfriend and wedding plans at this age.

Instead she wakes up to a really, really old and really, really grumpy Crookshanks, alone in bed, and realises that she has to go to work.

With a sigh, she stands up and makes herself ready for the day.

XXX

When she enters the office, she finds a hand on her eyes and another on her waist. The one on her waist moves behind her and before she can utter a sound, there is a familiar pull at her navel as she is Portkeyed away.

When they land, Hermione goes to pull her wand, but is stopped when she sees a familiar blond head.

Malfoy smirks at her and gestures dramatically to their surroundings. They are standing on a field, with a picnic basket filled with food laid out before them.

Other people start to arrive too, first confused and then smiling as they see her.

"Oh, come on, Granger." He raises his eyebrows at her incredulous look. "You really think I was going to let you work on your birthday?"

She smiles at this, but the smile quickly fades when she sees a familiar face arriving.

She has no right to feel jealous, though, so she turns around to speak with the first person she comes across, which happens to be Zacharias Smith. She tries to make that bitter ache in her stomach go away by losing herself in the conversation.

When it becomes clear that Zacharias has other things in mind than just conversing, she leaves. Hermione has never been that kind of girl, and she has no intention in starting now, much less for a bloke that...

Well, a bloke that means a lot to her, but still.

She walks away from Smith and enjoys the party, trying to not glance at Malfoy - Draco? - no, Malfoy and Amy every five seconds.

XXX

"What are you doing this evening?"

"I - nothing, why?"

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at say, eight?"

"Yeah sure," she answers, wondering what that was all about, feeling a tiny bit of hope flutter in her stomach.

XXX

With three words, that tiny bit of hope is crushed.

"Ah, there they are," he says, waving in the direction of the door.

When she sees who it is, the remainders of that hope are stamped into the ground and burned.

She quickly grabs her juice and drinks from it to mask her surprise and to make sure she won't be obliged to speak.

No speech is required from her, however. Amy and Draco make that clear when they begin snogging each other quite enthusiastically.

She looks at Amy's cousin and finds his eyes trained on her. He smiles, rolling his eyes, gesturing at the couple. She takes the drink away from her face and smiles back; he winks at her, and she quickly concentrates on the menu even though she decided fifteen minutes ago what she wants to eat.

Amy disentangles herself from Draco to introduce Hermione to her cousin Collin, but then she plunges back onto him. They stay so close to each other for the whole evening that they seem stuck together.

Collin is the perfect gentleman: polite, funny, and honest. He admits that he's not an Imperius Curse specialist like Amy said he was, and that he was brought along because he seemed like a good match for Hermione. They talk, and Hermione begins enjoying the night a little, except for the little baby noises Amy makes when she is feeding Draco - which is the. Whole. Freaking. Evening.

Collin says goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, making it clear that he would like to see her again, without the lovey-dovey couple, but that it's up to her. She nods and smiles, and smiles some more until her cheeks hurt and he finally walks away. She Apparates back home before Malfoy can ask the question he looks about to ask, and when she comes home, only a grumpy cat greets her by turning his back to her and continuing to sleep.

She sinks to the floor, not bothering to take off her coat, and stares at a spot on the wall, imagining it growing bigger and bigger until it swallows her whole, and then she imagines only darkness and the peaceful feeling that comes from a good night's sleep: when the world disappears for a while, and you finally feel a bit less sad. She thinks about why she is sad, but she forces that line of thinking away, not willing to think about him anymore, and so she wonders whether she should write Collin a note: a 'thank you, I would like to see you again' note.

Then she asks herself why she is thinking at all.

She stands up, and after petting her grumpy companion goes to bed, alone.

XXX

"I killed him, Miss Granger, I killed him!" he screams. "But I never touched the others! And I didn't even want to do all those things! I killed him!"

She asks him how he knows about the others, and she has to repeat the question a couple of times before she finally gets his attention, and once more before she gets an answer. Distractedly he makes a hand gesture while he continues his rant, and her eyes follow the direction of his finger, taking in his unshaven panicked face, then the uneven brick walls, and the words and stripes carved in there, the only sign of how long he has been here, to the spotless floor and finally the shredded pieces of paper scattered in the corner, remainders of a newspaper from not so long ago.

How did he get that? He is not supposed to get news, to prevent something like this happening. The man has been here so long that even now, with the Dementors gone from Azkaban, even the littlest change can disturb him so greatly he'll go into a panic attack. The guards would notice if someone gave a newspaper to him in passing, but not if it was an authorised visit. And the only ones authorised to visit him are -

She is disturbed from her musings when five guards enter the cell, four of them immediately tackling a still raving Stan Shunpike to the ground. Hermione starts yelling at them, saying that what he needs is medical attention and not more violence and cruelty, but she is firmly ushered outside by the fifth guard, a tall, dark man that keeps telling her it will be all right, that he will calm down in a minute. However, when she reclaims her personal belongings at the end of the corridor before being ushered into one of the magical lifts that will take her directly to the exit, she can still hear his screams in the distance.

XXX

Kicking off her shoes, she decides that she hates high heels. And rain. And Mondays. And incapable Ministry fools. And mushrooms. Yes, she hates mushrooms. She will never like those damn things.

"Argh!" she yells, because this is just the worst day ever, and it has barely begun.

"I knew you would go insane someday," a very familiar voice drawls from her doorway.

She almost throws her empty coffee cup at him. It's empty, anyway. Why is it empty?

Malfoy chuckles and comes into her office carrying a full coffee cup. A café latte, with just a touch of cream, a bit of sugar, and little chocolate pieces sprinkled on it, just the way she likes it. Exactly the way she likes it, even though she had never told him how she liked her coffee. Shocked brown eyes meet clear grey ones as he holds out the coffee to her, and she blinks twice before regaining a bit of her control. He must've heard her asking for it once, or that coffee woman told him. She narrows her eyes at the thought, looking down and away from his face while it goes from amused to concerned. He is still holding out the coffee.

"Is something wrong with it?" he asks. "Isn't it the way you like it?"

"Oh, it's exactly the way I like it," she snaps, wincing at how blunt it comes out. She has to clear her throat to get the offensive tone out of her voice, and she busies herself with securing a loose button on her coat while she works up the courage to look at him. "Th-thank-you," she stammers after a moment, much softer this time. "Thank you," she repeats, looking up to finally accept the cup - and freezing from his close proximity. How - when? - had he moved this close?

He is scanning her face, frowning a bit, one hand still holding the cup while the other is slightly raised. Her hands are still stuck on that loose button, and her lungs are still stuck on her sharp intake of breath. He is so close - too close - and she lets her eyes scan his face. The blond fringe hanging distractingly over his forehead, glistening rain drops still caught in it, and she realises he didn't go to Amy, but went to the coffee shop she likes so much at the other side of the street. His cheeks are slightly red from the cold outside, and his grey eyes are clearer than ever - did they always have specks of blue in them? She almost doesn't dare look at the remaining part, but she does, and oh, his lips, firm and thin, and inviting, and she has dreamt of kissing them for a while now, and if she blinks she can pretend they're moving closer but...no.

No, she can't. Because he has a girlfriend. Besides, if yesterday's evening was anything to go by, with the whole setting-her-up-with-Collin business, he is clearly not interested in her, and she has to stop being so silly and hoping for something that will never happen.

She snatches the coffee cup out of his hand and moves away quickly, taking regular breaths to compose herself.

"Right, right, er, well, thank you, Dra - Malfoy, for the...the coffee. I - now I've got work to do. Thank you."

She aims her smile to a spot slightly to the left of him, and keeps staring at that spot until he is long gone, the closed door taking away the possibility of what could have happened. She feels as detached from sunlight as the grey clouds she can see out of her window, and her insides feel as cold as the November rain that pours down, the coffee not helping, now that its warmth has vanished together with the blonde closing the door.

XXX

Dear Draco -

No, too personal.

Malfoy -

No, that's too blunt.

Dear Malfoy,

Yes, that's a start.

Dear Malfoy,

With the progress that has been made in the case, your professional advice will no longer be needed.

Thank you.

No, thank you was too meaningful.

Dear Malfoy,

With the progress that has been made in the case, your professional advice will no longer be needed.

Yours Sincerely,

Maybe without the yours. Or maybe 'yours', and not 'Dear Malfoy' but just 'Malfoy'.

Damn it.

Dear Malfoy,

With the progress that has been made in the case, your professional advice will no longer be needed.

Sincerely,

Hermione

No, no, no.

Maybe she should make it more formal.

Dear Mr. Malfoy

With the progress that has been made in the case, your professional advice will no longer be needed.

We thank you for your help.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger.

Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

She sighs and looks at her brown couch, knowing that if she sends this letter the couch will stay empty for a long time.

With a flick of her wand, the letter is gently blown away.

XXX

A little raindrop gently lands on her nose, and another one on her forehead. She smiles, sitting on the park bench. She remembers dancing in the rain multiple times when she was a kid, or her dad running after her, chasing her while she screamed with joy. She remembers swimming in the big swimming pool they had outside, and her mother's worried face asking her if she should come inside. She remembers laughing about it. She thinks she should maybe visit them once, but then she remembers the last time - standing in front of a strange house in a strange country, standing in front of people that meant so much to her, people that saw her as just a stranger, polite smiles on their faces - because of course, Monica and Wendell Wilkins did not know they had a daughter. No, it's better to just cherish the memories she has, now that she will not be able to make new ones.

Hermione sits there, smiling, and tilting her head back so that the raindrops mingle with the teardrops on her cheeks and eyelashes, until rain is all she sees and all she feels, and nobody will be able to tell the difference between the drops.

XXX

The sky is grey, as it will be for a while, but without rain. She sits on a bench as she looks at Percy's daughter playing with Ginny on the swings, enjoying life so fully as only little kids can do.

Ginny beside her, laughing and enjoying life too, moving her hand ever so often to look at her sparkling promise of love.

Hermione sits on her bench, thinking about Ron and Draco Malfoy, and wondering when everything in her life became so complicated.

XXX

Granger."

"Malfoy."

"What is this?" He waves the parchment in the air and she doesn't need to see what it is to know what this is about. She had hoped - she had hoped so hard this confrontation would not come, but here it is.

"What does it look like?" she asks, unbuttoning her grey winter coat.

He narrows his eyes at her, fury radiating from him as he takes slow, measured steps towards her. She feels very much like prey just spotted by the hunter. "Fine," he snaps. "Why, shall I ask?" It is not a question at all.

She breathes hard, eyes widening but she will not give in, she will not give in. "I -" She stops and clears her throat, surprised at how soft the words come out. "I believe I already explained it to you. We nearly have enough evidence now, so you don't have to help anymore."

"Oh," he says, smirking cruelly, a cold calculating look on his face. "Is that all this is about?" he asks sweetly. "The trail?"

"Of course," she answers. "What else would it be about?"

He studies her then, intently, grey eyes clashing with brown ones, and she busies herself with taking off her red scarf to not have to keep looking at him. Turning around, she tries to hang it on the coatrack, but damn it, it keeps slipping away - and those really tears in her eyes, for not being able to hang up a stupid scarf? But it keeps slipping and -

He curses softly, and she registers his steps, but he is not stepping away, but coming towards her, and the next moment he is taking her scarf and hanging it neatly, and of course it does not slip off.

She whirls around, suddenly furious and tired, so tired.

"Fine, Malfoy, damn it." He raises an eyebrow at her language, but she speaks through anything he would maybe say. "I'm in love with you, all right? Yeah. Sure, exactly, look stunned, and go tell wonderful, amazing Amy about that silly girl from upstairs."

Hermione's voice cracks at the end, and now the tears are really in danger of coming, so she pushes him aside and all but runs toward the exit, Apparating home and leaving a stunned Malfoy standing in her office for a very long time.

XXX

This is it. This is it.

She smiles triumphantly, viciously, and holds the parchment in her hands.

XXX

Stan Shunpike is released, and Dolores Umbridge and Rita Skeeter are charged on false accusations, briberies, blackmail, and theft.

Fingan is reprimanded, and his cousin Marietta Edgecombe is fired.

Hermione smiles at all the congratulations and leaves before Malfoy can come near her.

XXX

Three owls are waiting for her on the window sill.

Miss Granger,

We would be honoured to welcome you at our Christmas ball this year.

Sincerely,

Narcissa Malfoy

No, no, no, she is definitely not going.

"Shoo," she says to the owl and he looks indignant, elegantly spreading his wings and hooting haughtily as he flies away.

Hermione, you know you cannot refuse.

Love, Harry.

"Oh boy," she sighs. Maybe he is right, maybe she should go, but leave really early.

She feeds the owl a treat before he flies away.

Granger.

Will I see you there, or were you sorted into the wrong house? Hufflepuff would have suited you better, don't you think?

She bristles furiously, but no matter how hard she tries she can't get the bloody owl to leave. Only when she has accepted the invitation the owl leaves, and is that a smirk - no, owls cannot smirk but that resemblance to his owner was really, really scary.

It only dawns on her later.

The filthy Slytherin!

She is not amused.

XXX

Narcissa greets her with a smile and a careful kiss on both cheeks.

She joins Harry and Ginny, while Ron chats up his woman of the month.

The evening passes quickly, with her drinking more alcohol than she should, refusing the delicious treats that the house elves offer her until they look so sad she takes them anyways, admiring the tasteful decoration that makes the room she was once tortured in almost unrecognisable.

She can feel silvery-grey eyes on her the whole evening, but she never manages to spot their owner. Not that she looks for him. (She does, she does, oh, she does.)

Around eleven-thirty, she is suddenly bone-tired and feeling claustrophobic with all the laughing, dancing people around her.

She is standing at the front door, looking at the blizzard through the door, wondering how to leave, when he makes his appearance.

"Granger," he drawls, approaching her with languid steps, careless and at ease, and damn it, because she has nowhere to go, no chance at avoiding him and she knows he knows that.

"Slytherins," she hisses under her breath.

He is amused then. "Funny how you put so much thought into other people's house traits but ignore your own. I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave." He raises an eyebrow when she fumbles for something to say.

"Yes, well, special circumstances allow -" She stops, shakes her head. "Never mind, Malfoy. I'm going home now. Happy Christmas. Thanks for the invitation."

She turns, about to open the door.

"Hermione," he hisses, and the way he says her name makes her stop dead in her tracks. His hands are on her then, turning her around none-too-gently, and his lips attack her mouth, his aggravation clear in the force of his tongue.

She is too surprised to do much about it except wait it out, and when he stops, it is only to murmur something about a bloody stubborn and annoying witch before he is on her again.

She kisses him back this time, and he calms then, one hand tangling with her hair, and the other around her back, grabbing her hip.

"You're not going anywhere," he whispers against her lips, and she smiles, relieved and happy.

Xxx

They never really speak about it. It just happens, and Hermione thinks maybe she should have let things go their way before. Draco and her is not something that can be explained - but it is there, in her and through her and with them, and perhaps that's all that matters.


End file.
